


A Tale of Trouble

by thetimeladyswan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, F/F, F/M, Gen, It won't be happening for a while but I guess I've gotta warn you, Marauders' Era, Multi, Potterlock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4392587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thetimeladyswan/pseuds/thetimeladyswan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On her eleventh birthday, Molly Hooper discovered the Wizarding World. Little did she know the joy, sadness, and, above all, chaos, that it would bring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> I started this in October of 2013, so that should give you an idea of how updates are gonna go. I'm very sorry.
> 
> The date at the start of each chapter should help for time jumps, because I will have them. I don't think I'll be spending too long on first, second, third or fourth year. The most interesting things will be happening in the last three.

* * *

  _Chapter One_

* * *

 

_September first, 1971_

On the morning of September the first, Platform Nine and Three Quarters was understandably busy. The second through seventh years took it in their stride, bidding their parents goodbye and rushing off to find their friends and a compartment.

The first years were a mixture of reactions. Those who had older siblings at Hogwarts and therefore had been on the platform before were largely disinterested, but of course excited to be starting the school they had heard so much about.

For the other first years, there was nothing but awe. They stared at the scene before them; the students and their parents wandering around, the scarlet train spread out like a snake.

On the other side of the barrier, Molly Hooper fiddled with the hem of her sweater, glancing over her shoulder at her parents and two brothers.

“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted.

Gavin, who was her brother, older by two years, approached her, putting an arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.

“From the stuff that bloke was telling us—” (here he referred to the man from the Ministry of Magic who had come to explain to them that Molly was a witch.) “—it's probably hidden. Like that Alley. You might have to do some magic to get in.”

Molly glanced up at him, worry pooling in her stomach. “I don’t know any spells.” She had flicked through her _Standard Book of Spells, Grade One_ , yes, but she’d never _tried_ any of them.

“Hang on,” said Gavin. “See those two boys?”

Molly looked. Two tall boys – one with darker hair than the other, but with the look of brothers – approached. Both were pushing trolleys, and both had trunks that looked suspiciously like hers.

“They look like wizards, don’t they?”

“They do. Thanks, Gav,” she smiled, standing on her tiptoes to hug him. She stepped away from her brother, and caught the boys’ attention with an, “Excuse me?” that sounded much more timid than she expected.

The light-haired brother pretended not to have noticed her, and she felt a sinking feeling. But the boy with the dark curls turned to look at her.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Are – do you go to Hogwarts?”

He looked her over with sharp, crystal blue eyes and cast a glance back at her family.

“Muggleborn?” he asked. His voice was not unkind, but not friendly either. Somehow, his question seemed more like a statement.

Molly answered anyway, her voice sounding stronger now. “Yes. Could you tell me how to get to Platform Nine and Three Quarters, please?”

He nodded, turning to stand beside her. “You just walk straight ahead, through the barrier. Watch Mycroft.”

The other boy – Mycroft – shot his brother a scathing look before steering his trolley towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten. He glanced around conspicuously, before striding purposefully towards the barrier and disappearing.

“Can you do it?” the curly-haired boy asked, sounding slightly more kind, though it was hard to tell.

“I think so. Thank you,” she replied, turning back to her family. She accepted a kiss from her mother, and hugged her father and brothers – Gavin for the second time.

“I'll write,” she promised, smiling at her family before focusing her attention on her trolley. She fiddled with the catch on the basket of her new tabby cat, Toby, making sure that it was closed, and pushed the trolley towards the barrier.

She held her gaze up until the moment of impact, when she squeezed them tightly shut. When the voices of hundreds of excited voices chattering, she opened them again, and stared in awe at her surroundings.

Walking slowly towards the train – lest she block the boy’s way – she took in the sight. Students milling around, some in the long, black robes that were the uniform, greeting friends and telling tales of their summers.

The Hogwarts express gleamed red, obscured slightly by smoke. Molly strode towards this, puzzling over in her mind how she would get her heavy trunk on board.

She was saved from this situation by two children who looked around her own age – a girl with long, straight red hair and the boy with short, blonde locks – who appeared with their own trolleys and trunks.

“Want some help with that?” the redhead offered, gesturing towards the trunk.

“If you don’t mind,” Molly replied politely.

“‘Course I don’t mind,” the girl grinned. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise, would I? Oi, John! Get over here and help us.”

She addressed the boy, who had wandered off to look at another student's pet owl.

“I’m Harriet Watson, by the way,” the girl continued, as she and Molly lifted the trunk. The boy returned to help them.

“This is my twin brother, John,” she continued, as they set the trunk on the floor of the train. “It’s our first year here. Is it yours?”

Molly nodded, helping the twins to load their trunks as well.

“D’you know what house you’ll be in?” asked John.

“No, I don’t really know that much about Hogwarts …”

“Are you Muggleborn?” asked Harriet, as they lugged their trunks behind them in search of a compartment.

“Yes, I’m the only witch in my family.”

Harriet carried the large cage of a Barn Owl, and Molly Toby’s cage, so John opened the door of the compartment, once they’d found an empty one.

“Our mother’s a Muggle,” said Harriet. “So I suppose I’m the only witch in our family, too. Our Dad was a Gryffindor.”

“You should see the stuff he has at home,” John rolled his eyes. “Very proud of his house, he is.”

“Do you know what house you want to be in?” Molly asked.

“Gryffindor,” said the twins in unison.

“Dad does harp on about it,” Harriet smiled in explanation.

“What do your parents do?” asked Molly, curling up in her seat, feeling comfortable with the Watson twins.

“Mum works in a Muggle shop, and Dad works for the _Daily Prophet_.”

“Mum’s a manager, Dad’s an editor,” John added.

“Well that’s what I _said_.”

Molly smiled as the twins bickered, leaning her head against the seat as the train began to move.

Several hours later, it had grown dark, and the train was ever closer to their destination. The three eleven-year-olds had bought themselves a selection of food from the trolley that had passed through their compartment, and Molly and John had changed into their Hogwarts robes.

They would be taking boats across the lake of Hogwarts, so John had informed her. The older students travelled up to the castle in what the twins described as “magic carriages” (meaning that they were not drawn by anything visible.)

She felt her excitement building as the train sped on.

“Nervous?” John questioned, sitting down next to her (Harriet had gone to the bathroom to change into her robes).

“I think so,” Molly replied, glancing towards the window. She couldn’t see anything in the darkness, save for the lights of towns they passed

“I think you’d make a good Gryffindor, if that helps.”

She beamed. “It does, thanks.”

“Well, it doesn’t really make much difference what house you’re in,” he was quick to add. “Harriet says—”

As if summoned by her name, the female Watson twin appeared with a flash of red hair and a demanded, “What are you saying about me?”

“ _Harriet says_ ,” John repeated, shooting a look at his sister, “that I’ll probably be a Hufflepuff.”

“Gryffindor or Hufflepuff,” she shrugged, biting the head off a saved Chocolate Frog.

“And you?”

“Gryffindor or Gryffindor,” she replied, mouth full of chocolate. Molly smiled.

A message informing them that they would be arriving at Hogsmeade station momentarily sounded.

“This is it,” Harriet announced, grinning. “Ready, Hooper?”

She nodded, feeling a little light-headed. She checked on Toby (he, along with her trunk, would be taken up to the castle for her), before heading towards the door.

“What’s your cat called?” asked Harriet interestedly, sliding the compartment door open as the train slowed to a stop.

“Toby,” Molly replied. “Your owl?”

“Sadie,” John informed her.

“We have to share her,” Harriet continued. “Our parents aren’t loaded, you know. But you’re welcome to borrow her any time.”

“Thanks,” Molly beamed.

The trio joined the crowds of students disembarking from the train. A call of “Firs’ years! This way!” reached their ears. They set off towards it. Molly almost jumped out of her skin when she caught sight of a larger-than-life man standing there with a lantern, waving a huge hand and calling again for first years.

“Who’s _that_?” she hissed to Harriet.

“Hagrid,” she answered dismissively. “He’s the Groundskeeper at Hogwarts.”

“Don’t worry, he’s very nice,” John added. “Our Dad knew him. We’ve met him before.”

“He’s just big,” Harriet shrugged, clearly used to the man.

“Okay,” Molly murmured, slightly ashamed of her fear. She was sure to smile up at Hagrid.

“Hello John! Harriet! Made a friend, have you? Who’s this?”

“Molly Hooper,” she replied. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Muggleborn, are yeh?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled. “I hope yeh three’ll visit me. You too, James!” he added to a dark haired boy with glasses, who had recently joined the group of first years.

“Of course I’ll come and see you, Hagrid,” the boy called James grinned.

“All righ’, is that everyone?”

“I think so …” the first years cast glances over their shoulders, searching for other students their age.

“Let’s go, then.”

They followed dutifully after the Gamekeeper, chatting amongst themselves. James and another dark-haired boy were chattering the loudest of the group.

“Wait ‘till you see the castle,” Hagrid said, sounding almost more excited than them. “It’s just around the corner here …”

There were collective sounds of awe: ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s and gasps.

“It’s beautiful,” Molly murmured reverently.

“We get to live in a castle for seven years,” John smiled.

“Like a fairytale,” Harriet deadpanned. Molly laughed.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid called to them, as they reached the bank of a vast, dark, lake. Molly, John and Harriet clambered into one of them, and were joined by a thin, pale boy, in second-hand robes and with recently-cut brown hair, lighter than Molly’s own.

“Hi,” Molly smiled encouragingly at him. “I’m Molly Hooper.”

“Remus Lupin,” he replied, giving a half-hearted smile.

“These are the Watson twins,” Molly added. Harriet gave a little wave. “John and Harriet.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Remus smiled (genuinely, this time).

“Are you excited?” asked John.

Remus nodded. “Yes, very. I never thought I’d get here.”

“I didn’t even know here existed ‘till not too long ago.”

“You’re Muggleborn?” (Molly nodded). “My Mum’s a Muggle.”

“Like us!” Harriet exclaimed.

They chattered excitedly throughout the remainder of the boat ride, obeying Hagrid’s instructions (to duck as they passed a dangerously low cliff) as they did so.

When the boats bumped against the bank of the lake, they all clambered out and followed Hagrid towards the castle. He rapped heavily on the huge oaken doors when he reached it, and it was opened by a tall woman in emerald green robes, her greying hair pulled into a tight bun, and a stern expression behind a pair of spectacles.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid. Molly knew the name. It had been this witch who had signed her Hogwarts acceptance letter; the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” said McGonagall. She then turned her attention to the first years. “Please follow me.”

They obeyed, walking through the large, empty hall. Molly’s gaze travelled up the great marble staircase, the by now familiar feeling of awe rushing through her once again.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” said McGonagall, beginning what was obviously a speech, presumably told to the first years every year. “In a few short moments, you will be sorted into your houses, and you will then join them. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. While you are here, your house will be like your family. You will form lifelong friendships within your house, and indeed, your school. Good behaviour will be rewarded with house points. Misdemeanours will lose you points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will win the house cup. Understood?”

There was a rather nervous chorus of, “Yes, Professor.”

“Good,” said McGonagall, and she might have smiled – it was hard to tell. “Please wait here.”

She disappeared through another set of impressive doors.

“McGonagall,” said Harriet. “Our Dad knows her. Calls her ‘Minnie’ sometimes.”

John chuckled. “She hates it.”

“She’s the head of Gryffindor, right?” asked Remus Lupin. The twins nodded in response.

Professor McGonagall returned a moment later, ordering them to follow her. Molly fell into step beside Remus, behind the Watsons. She kept her gaze fixed determinedly on John’s head, avoiding the gazes of the students watching her from their house tables.

They stopped, and waited patiently – for what, Molly did not know. All of a sudden, she heard a burst of song. She jumped, glancing over Harriet’s shoulder to locate the source of the music.

It was an old, ragged, patched hat, singing loudly about the houses of Hogwarts from where it sat upon a three-legged stool. She stared at it, bewildered.

“The Sorting Hat,” Remus explained in an undertone, obviously noticing her confusion. “It’s enchanted so that it can figure out what house you belong in. And sing loudly, apparently.”

“Thanks,” Molly whispered.

The song ended, and everyone applauded. Then, McGonagall unfurled a scroll of paper, announcing the name, “Avery, Lucas.”

A short boy with thick shoulders walked towards the stool, and had the hat placed on his head. After a few seconds, it announced, “SLYTHERIN!”

The crowd applauded, and he walked towards the table that obviously belonged to the Slytherins, sitting down.

“Black, Narcissa,” McGonagall called next.

A tall, haughty girl, with long hair spilling down her back, emerged from the crowd, and sat on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat on her head.

“SLYTHERIN!” it announced, after half a moment's deliberation. She walked towards the Slytherin table, sitting next to a girl with dark curls.

“Black, Sirius.”

A boy with long dark hair – much like the girl Narcissa Black had sat with, and most likely a relative – approached the hat rather grimly. The hat took longer to decide this time.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

No one from the Slytherin table clapped at all, as Sirius walked towards the Gryffindor table. The boy Molly remembered as James slapped him on the back as he walked past.

“Bones, Edgar.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Brown, Marlene.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Cattermole, Reginald.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

So it continued. Melanie Clearwater became a Hufflepuff, Emma Dearborn a Ravenclaw, and Lily Evans a Gryffindor.

“Fawley, Alice.”

A girl with a round face and curly brown-blonde hair walked up to the Sorting Stool, looking terrified. She joined Lily Evans and Sirius Black at the Gryffindor table.

“Holmes, Sherlock.”

The curly-haired boy, who had helped Molly to find platform nine and three quarters, became a Ravenclaw.

“Hooper, Molly.”

“Good luck,” Harriet smiled at her as she made her way towards the stool.

“You too.”

She perched uncertainly on the edge of the three-legged stool, and Professor McGonagall placed the battered hat on her head. It fell past her eyes, so that she could see nothing. A voice began to mutter in her head.

“ _A Muggleborn, eh? There’s quite a few of you this year ... hmm … loyalty, yes. Not bad intelligence … some cunning. But bravery, yes._ ”

“I’m not brave,” she whispered, certainly not feeling it.

“ _Of course you are, my dear child. You just haven't realised it yet. GRYFFINDOR!_ ”

The hat was pulled from over her eyes, and she felt dazed. The Watson twins were beaming. Applause ringing in her ears, she made her way over to the Gryffindor table, sitting across from Alice Fawley.

Frank Longbottom was the next Gryffindor, after Gregory Lestrade became a Hufflepuff.

“Lupin Remus.”

Molly turned her attention to the kind boy who had talked to her. After two minutes, he became a Gryffindor. Molly waved for him to sit with her, and he did so.

Mary McDonald also joined their table, sitting a little further down beside a third year.

Paul McKinnon, James Moriarty and Mary Morstan were sorted into Ravenclaw. Three Slytherins (Sebastian Moran, David Mulciber and Owen Nott) were sorted before the next Gryffindors; Peter Pettigrew and James Potter, who sat with Sirius Black.

Carl Powers became a Hufflepuff, and Sarah Sawyer and Severus Snape both joined the Slytherin table.

“Watson, Harriet.”

Molly waited with bated breath for her new friend to be sorted.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Beaming, Harriet took her seat beside Molly.

“Watson, John.”

The hat took quite a long time before announcing, “GRYFFINDOR!”

With a smile as large as his sister’s, John joined their table.

The sorting ended with Catherine Zabini being sorted into Slytherin.

The Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, an old man with long white hair and a beard, rose to his feet.

“Welcome, students, both old and new. I shall not deprive you of your meal. Enjoy!”

The previously empty plates suddenly filled with food. Molly was, somehow, not surprised by this. Perhaps she was becoming used to the Wizarding World. Perhaps she was too hungry to care.

During the feast, Molly got to know Alice and Lily, who she would share a dormitory with. Lily was a Muggleborn, like her, and Alice was a Pureblood. They convinced Mary McDonald to sit with them, too, and found that she was also a Muggleborn.

The Hat was right, Molly mused. There would be three Muggleborns in her dormitory alone. It didn’t mean anything, at least.

After the feast, Dumbledore made a proper speech, introducing the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Hannah Rosier. She bowed politely to the applause bestowed upon her. the students were dismissed, and the first years were beckoned towards the Prefects, who introduced themselves as Lisa Blackwell and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They led the way up the Marble Staircase, and up many other, less grand, stairs. Eventually, they reached a portrait of a woman in a silk pink dress.

“Password?” she asked.

“Holyhead Harpies,” said Lisa. The portrait swung open to admit them.

“Girls, please follow me,” said Lisa. The obeyed, following her up a spiral staircase.

“Your dormitories are here,” she gestured to a door on her right. “Breakfast starts in the Great Hall at eight o’ clock. Classes start at nine. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me or Kingsley. Goodnight.”

“Night,” they replied, rather half-heartedly.

Harriet, who seemed already to be the boldest of the five, pushed open the dormitory door. Five four-poster beds and their luggage awaited them. Molly claimed the bed in the middle of the room, next to a window. Harriet and Alice took the beds either side of her, Mary claimed the bed next to Harriet’s, and Lily the one next to Alice’s. Toby began to purr at once when she let him out of his basket, immediately curling up on her bed. She pulled the red hangings around her bed and changing into her pyjamas. She climbed into bed, punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape, and sighed.

“I can’t sleep,” Harriet declared, after a lengthy silence. This was met with a chorus of, “Me neither.”

Molly sat up, opening the hangings around her bed.

“I’ve got some Butterbeer in my trunk,” said Alice. “We could share it?”

Molly had no idea what Butterbeer was, but it sounded delicious, so she added her voice to the assent of the others.

The five girls climbed back out of bed, and sat in a circle at the foot of Molly’s, passing the bottle of Butterbeer around between them, chatting away.

So it was that Molly Hooper became friends with her fellow first year Gryffindor girls.

 


	2. Chapter Two

* * *

_Chapter Two_

* * *

 

_September second, 1971_

John searched his trunk for the matching sock. His first day at Hogwarts was not going well so far. He and the other five boys with whom he now shared a dormitory had stayed up late the previous night – so late that John had now overslept. Now, he couldn’t find his damn sock.

“Under the bed,” came a voice from across the room. John glanced up, seeing that the voice belonged to (an annoyingly fully dressed and ready to go) a boy with messy black hair and hazel eyes that twinkled behind square frames.

“Thanks ... James, right?”

“Right,” he grinned. “See you at breakfast.”

With that, John was left alone with a boy who he thought was called Frank, who was trying to simultaneously brush his teeth and tie his shoelaces. John located his elusive sock, finished getting ready and left the dormitory before Frank. Harriet and a blonde girl whose name eluded him waited for him in the common room.

“Never let it be said that I’m not an awesome sister,” said Harriet, smiling at him. “C’mon, we still have some time for breakfast.”

“John,” he introduced himself to the girl, falling into step with her as they walked.

“Alice,” she returned, a smile gracing her round face.

“Made friends, I see,” he added to Harriet.

“I don’t see any of yours, baby brother.”

“You are _three_ minutes older than me.”

Alice laughed. “You two are cute. It must be nice to have someone else growing up.”

“Not really,” said Harriet, at the same time as John said, “Nice?” This only caused the blonde to laugh harder.

Reaching the Great Hall, they found the rest of their year. Lily was leaning her head against Molly’s shoulder; the other girl unperturbedly eating her porridge as the redhead dozed. Mary sat with them, eating toast and chatting to a third year who she obviously knew. James and Sirius were laughing at something one of them had said, and Peter and Remus were sitting relatively alone. Frank hadn’t arrived yet.

"See?" Harriet beamed, evidently proud of herself. “Plenty of time.”

No sooner had they sat down, however, than their head of house, Professor McGonagall, made her way down the table,  handing out timetables to everyone. John grabbed a slice of toast. He had it buttered when Frank finally arrived, sitting beside him with a yawn. McGonagall tutted as she approached her new first years. Lily jerked awake.

“I am aware that the start a new school is an exciting time, but I would rather not have you falling asleep in your classes. Let’s see … Potter ... Black ... Evans ... Hooper ... McDonald ... Watson ... Watson ... Fawley ... Longbottom ... Pettigrew ... and Lupin.” She cast an analytical look at them, before her lips quirked into something that may have resembled a smile. “I think you’ll do well.”

“Thanks, Professor,” Harriet muttered, when she was gone. She glanced down at the timetable. “We don't have her ‘til Wednesday.”

“Herbology first,” Alice added, glancing up at the ceiling. It wasn’t raining, but the sky was quite grey, which didn’t make John eager to go outside. He scanned through the timetable. Herbology with the Hufflepuffs, Potions with the Slytherins, Charms with the Ravenclaws and History of Magic for all three houses. Harriet had been right; they didn’t have Transfiguration until first thing on Wednesday morning, when they would see more of their strange head of house.

“We’d better get going,” said John, glancing around the Great Hall and noting that some people had already left. Harriet and Alice nodded. Lily was asleep again, and Frank had joined her, face drooping dangerously low to his toast – which had a generous covering of jam. Alice nudged him with her elbow. James lamented the loss of the sight of him with jam on his face.

The eleven of them left the castle and made their way down to the greenhouses, joined by the Hufflepuffs. Their fellow first years smiled at them, and attempted to make conversation. John wondered if it would be stereotypical to assume that all Hufflepuffs were friendly, as a boy who had introduced himself as Carl commented on the weather. How had Harriet thought that he might become one of them?

He was glad that he and his sister had not been separated. Twins were split up by houses all too often, he knew. But he and Harriet hadn’t been. He was glad to be a Gryffindor; he appeared to be surrounded by good people. People he could imagine becoming close friends with over the seven years they would spend together.

James, the impromptu leader of their group (he had earned his place by walking ahead of the others as they dawdled) located Greenhouse One. Professor Sprout had not arrived yet, so they lined up outside.

Lily grumbled, hanging her head and tucking her chin into her robes so as to conserve as much heat as possible. “We’re going to have to do this every Monday morning for the rest of the year.”

Harriet patted her on the back. “It’ll get warmer.”

“Not before it gets colder.”

While the Gryffindors grumbled tiredly, the Hufflepuffs chatted away to each other. Stereotypical or not, it wasn’t normal to be that chipper first thing on a Monday morning.

Professor Sprout, as head of Hufflepuff house, was also cheerful as she provided them a refuge from the cold. “Morning, chaps!”

They filed into the greenhouse, standing on either side of a long bench. Professor Sprout introduced herself to them and explained what they would be doing.

“Split up into pairs,” she instructed them. “A Gryffindor with a Hufflepuff, please.”

Harriet sighed, slinking away. Carl occupied her seat, happily taking up the conversation again. He seemed a genuinely kind person, so John made an effort to reply. They would be planting puffapod seeds; nothing too taxing for their first lesson.

“You’ll be dealing with puffapods again in third year,” their professor informed them, as they gathered the equipment they’d need. “They’ll have grown enough by then.”

John and Carl successfully planted a handful of seeds into the four pots they’d been allotted; John learning that he had two siblings, both already in Hogwarts, and Hufflepuff.

“I’ve only got Harriet,” John replied, pointing with his trowel.

“She’s loud,” said Carl, wrinkling his nose.

John laughed, “Don’t I know it.”

After Herbology, they made their way back to the castle, and then parted at the staircase. The Hufflepuffs had Charms with the Ravenclaws, whereas the Gryffindors had to descend to the dungeons for Potions with the Slytherins.

The Slytherins, whose first period must have been in the castle, were already in the classroom. The Gryffindors filed in, taking the remaining available seats. Lily broke away, sitting next to a boy with long black hair and a sallow face.

“She mentioned having a friend,” Harriet murmured, as she and John sat together. Molly, sitting at the next bench with Alice, glanced around at the Slytherins.

“I’m guessing inter-house friendships don’t usually happen?”

“They do, but Slytherins usually keep to themselves. It’s the whole ‘evil’ vibe.”

“Surely they’re not necessarily _evil_.”

“I beg to differ,” Sirius grimaced. “My entire family are Slytherins.”

Professor Slughorn called the class to order. He too, was a jovial man, explaining to them what they would be doing over the course of the year. He had brewed several potions to show them, promising them that they would know how to successfully do the same by the end of the year. They took notes down from the chalkboard, and then they were dismissed.

“Is it lunch time?” asked Mary, searching for her timetable.

“I think so …” James stood on his tiptoes. “Yeah, everyone’s heading to the Great Hall.”

They followed the crowds to where there were soups and sandwiches waiting for them. They sat, ate and talked, until it was time to leave for Charms.

The Charms classroom was located on the third floor, and was found fairly easily after Harriet eventually elbowed her way through the other first years and asked a prefect – Lisa Blackwell  – for help.

The Ravenclaws, who were apparently as clever as their house boasted, were waiting outside the door when the Gryffindors approached. Molly struck up an awkward conversation with one of them  – a tall, haughty boy with dark curly hair.

“Do you know him?” John asked her, when she apparently gave up in her attempt and moved to stand by him and Harriet.

“I met him on the platform yesterday,” Molly replied. “He helped me through the barrier. I thought I might say thank you, but ...” She hung her head.

John frowned at his newfound friend – at least he hoped she was his friend. She was certainly Harriet’s. She looked a little dejected, as though she’d been hoping to befriend the boy.

“Excuse me.”

The boy turned to him. John suddenly realised he hadn’t asked Molly for his name. Instead, he introduced himself.

“John Watson.”

The boy did not volunteer any information about himself. instead, he cast cold blue eyes over John and asked, “Identical or fraternal?”

“I’m sorry?”

“You have a twin.” It was a statement, not a question. “Identical or fraternal?”

He blinked, fighting the confusion. He’d come to defend Molly, and make the boy apologise to her, but ... how did he know?

“Fraternal,” he found himself answering, looking at the other Ravenclaws as if one of them would tell him what was going on. “I’m sorry, how did you—?”

“Brother or sister?” he interrupted.

“Sister,” John replied, frowning. “Harriet.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the girl in question lift a hand to wave, smirking at his plight.

The strange boy nodded his head towards her. “She’s older than you are – barely. You’ve always felt in her shadow."

John shook his head. “How do you know all this?”

“I don’t,” replied the Ravenclaw, his lips curving upward into a smirk. “I observe.”

The door to the classroom opened then, cutting off any further questions that John could formulate. Instead, he turned back to his sister and Molly. “Who was that?”

“That,” said Molly darkly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Was Sherlock Holmes. C’mon, let’s find a seat.”

Their teacher, and head of Ravenclaw house, Professor Flitwick, was a tiny man whose chair was stacked with books in order for him to see over his desk. He began the class by taking the roll call, and, like Potions before it, they took notes from a chalkboard. At the end of the class, they began practising the wand movement for the first charm they would learn: _Lumos_.

“I wonder if all spells are Latin,” Harriet mused, as they walked to History of Magic, their last lesson of the day.

“Have you read _Hogwarts: A History_?” asked Molly, and so began a conversation that John could have no part in. Instead, he fell into step beside Remus Lupin.

They made small-talk and sat next to each other when the class began – as Harriet and Molly were still chatting away.

John was surprised to find that their History of Magic Professor was a ghost. He began to speak in a droning voice, explaining to them what they would be studying for the next five to seven years.

It made John want to sleep, but he shook out of his stupor in order to make some attempt at notetaking.

Eventually, he gave up, scrawling a note to Remus that read, _How can you manage this?_

The boy smiled, saying to him in a low tone, “My dad listens to this radio programme. I’m telling you, if you can listen to that without falling asleep, you can listen to anything.”

John nodded, only half aware of what Remus had said. He vaguely noted James Potter flying paper aeroplanes – the Muggle way, since they had yet to learn such an incantation – and Professor Binns threatening to give   “Perkins” detention.

The bell signalling the end of the day cleared the fog from his brain, and he happily shuffled to the Great Hall with the other students.

“So,” Harriet grinned at her brother, piling her plate high with potatoes. “That was the first day of the rest of our lives, huh?”

Lily laughed. “Seven years, Harriet.”

She waved a hand in a ‘same thing’ expression. “What did you think?”

John found himself smiling, nodding, and saying. “I like it.”


	3. Chapter Three

* * *

_September fourth, 1971_

 

Saturday dawned bright and crisp over Hogwarts castle. Lily Evans – having woken in the early hours of the morning and then found herself unable to fall back to sleep – lay in her four poster bed, transcribing a letter to her elder sister, Petunia. Her failed attempts lay crumpled around her.

 

She had left her sister on such bad terms, and her heart ached to right that wrong. Surely Petunia hadn’t meant what she’d said when she called her a freak.

 

No. They were sisters. They loved each other. They always had.

 

Harriet Watson, the only other girl in the dormitory awake at such an hour, plopped unceremoniously onto the bed, causing some crumpled-up letters to fall to the floor.

 

“What ‘cha doing?” she asked with a bright smile, towelling her hair – the shade of which almost put Lily’s to shame.

 

“Writing to my sister,” Lily replied, glancing up at the other redhead. Harriet grinned.

 

“How old is she? I bet she can’t wait to come here.”

 

Lily shook her head sadly. “She’s older than me. She’s a Muggle.”

 

Harriet’s bright smile turned immediately to a grimace. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – I just assumed.”

 

“It’s okay,” Lily assured, smiling in a way that she hoped didn’t appear forced. “She did want to come here. She even wrote a letter begging Dumbledore, but …”

 

“She’s not a witch,” Harriet supplied, mouth quirking this time into a sympathetic smile. “You know, my mum and dad fell in love with each other before she found out he was a wizard. She took it so well, it was amazing. Or maybe dad just puts a sappy spin on it.”

 

Lily laughed despite herself, steadying her ink pot to stop it from spilling over the sheets.

 

“The point is, you accept things like that, even if they’re crazy, for the people you love. And I’m sure your sister loves you.”

 

Lily nodded, a smile she was sure wasn’t forced creeping across her face. “So am I. Thanks, Harriet.”

 

“Anytime,” the other girl promised, before vacating Lily’s bed and asking loudly, “Who are the purebloods around here? Oi, Alice! What is there to do in this bloody castle?”

 

“How should I know?” she grumbled, tugging the duvet further over her head in an attempt to hide from Harriet, but to no avail.

 

Lily finished her letter with a  _Love you,_ and left to get ready for the day.

 

She carried the letter in the pocket of her robes, intending to go to the Owlery after breakfast to deliver it, but was saved the trouble when she received a letter from her parents.

 

In the letter, her mother marvelled at the fact that a school owl had appeared at the very moment she had begun to wonder how they would send the letter to Lily. Her father asked if she’d made any friends and how she was settling in. There was nothing from Petunia, but Lily resolved not to worry about that for the time being. She borrowed a quill from a third year across the table and added a postscript to her letter to Petunia, asking her to tell their parents that she’d only just received their letter and would write back as soon as she could. Then, she attached the roll of parchment to the owl’s leg, allowed him to take a sip of her pumpkin juice, and sent him on his way.

 

After breakfast, the girls from her dormitory offered that she accompany them on an exploratory walk around the castle grounds. She declined, spotting Severus sitting at the Slytherin table. It was the furthest away from where she sat, but she stood, held her head high and made the walk across the Great Hall.

 

She felt the eyes of the Slytherins on her, but she ignored them, only stopping when she reached the bench where Severus sat, with other first years she vaguely remembered from the sorting and Potions class. She smiled in greeting.

 

“Good morning, Severus.”

 

“Good morning, Lily,” he returned her smile.

 

“Who might your friends be?” she asked politely.

 

“I’m Avery,” said one of the boys. “This is Mulciber. It’s a _pleasure_ to meet you.”

 

Lily kept her smile in place. “And you. I'm Evans. Lily Evans. Sev, do you want to take a walk?”

 

He finished the last of his toast and accompanied her from the Great Hall. Lily wrapped her new Gryffindor scarf around her neck as they headed for the courtyard. She told him about the letter she’d received from her parents, the one she’d sent to Petunia, and her worry that her sister would not reply.

 

Severus walked with his hands in the pockets of his robes, his face half-covered by the Slytherin scarf he wore. She could still hear him scoff through it, however. “At least you  _got_ a letter.”

 

Lily clucked her tongue sympathetically. “Maybe you could try writing to them?”

 

He shook his head. “Don’t be silly; it’d just be a waste of time.”

 

They lapsed into silence after that, bundling themselves up in their robes on the uncommonly chilly September day. She asked Severus to tell her about Slytherin house, but his only answer was noncommittal.

 

“I heard that the common room is under the lake,” she informed him, as they gave up on the weather and set back toward the castle. “Is that true?”

 

He nodded, seeming to realise that his mood was affecting their conversation. “It makes everything green – don’t laugh – and gloomy. It’s pretty cool, though.”

 

“When I lean out the window in my dormitory, it feels like I can see everything,” she returned, smiling. “Well, not, everything. But all of the grounds.”

 

He chuckled, and she shoved him. The silence between them became more comfortable.

 

“Sev?” asked Lily eventually, glancing over at him.

 

“Yeah?” he met her gaze. In the weak sunlight, his eyes could almost be dark brown.

 

“We can still … be friends, right? It’s just, there doesn’t seem to be many – any, really – Gryffindors who are friends with Slytherins.”

 

Severus held his head high, exposing his sallow face to the cold breeze. “We’ll change that. I promise.”

 

Lily smiled.

 

* * *

 

At dinner that evening, Harriet gushed about her ‘adventures’ around the castle.

 

“The caretaker looked like he was about to kill us!” she exclaimed through laughter. John – who had also been present – rolled his eyes at his twin's dramatized version of the tale.

 

“He just asked us to leave the corridor.”

 

“He did look pretty mad, though,” Alice granted.

 

On Sunday, Lily curled up on a hard-won seat by the window of the common room and did her homework, occasionally kept company by her fellow first years. She watched as Remus Lupin crossed and exited the common room that evening, frowning to herself.

 

She shrugged. Curfew wasn’t for another half hour. Maybe he wanted to take some air.

 

“Evans, right?”

 

She glanced away from the portrait hole to find the Black boy – Sirius, she thought his name was – sitting across from her. She raised an eyebrow. “Yes. What do you want?”

 

Sirius raised one shoulder in a shrug. “It’s a nice spot you’ve got here. Mind if I sit?”

 

“You already are,” she pointed out, dipping her quill into the ink well beside her elbow.

 

Sirius nodded his head in a ‘fair enough’ gesture. “Mind if I continue to sit?”

 

“As long as you don’t bother me.”

 

He didn’t, and he remained there, merely gazing out of the window, until James Potter yelled, “Oi, Black!” from across the room. Sirius smiled almost apologetically, and vacated the seat.

 

Lily didn’t give any more thought to the first year boys, until the next morning, when Remus Lupin was absent from classes.

 

“Do you know if he’s ill?” she murmured to Harriet, during their first class – Potions. The other girl shook her head.

 

“John said he did look a bit poorly, though. Maybe—”

 

She shut her mouth abruptly as Slughorn passed. He offered encouragement to Lily’s potion. She smiled, brightening, and forgot all about Remus.

 

The other classes passed without incident, until their final one: Transfiguration. They had graduated from the note-taking of the past two classes to attempting to turn a matchstick into a needle. Lily, after a great deal of concentration, succeeded in the task, only to find that she was not the first to do so.

 

James Potter had apparently transfigured his matchstick with very little effort at all, declared the exercise boring, and proceeded to take Sirius Black’s matchstick, light it aflame (“That’s what you’re supposed to do with matches anyway, Professor. Muggles do it all the time.”) and caused it to zoom about the classroom, scattering frightened first years. Harriet immediately used her book to shield her head. Alice ducked under her desk. Lily could only watch in horror as Professor McGonagall directed her wand toward the object and caused it to fall to the ground, snuffing out the flame as it did so.

 

Silence descended upon the classroom.

 

“Detention,” said McGonagall eventually, her lips almost disappearing in the thin line she pursed them into.

 

“Professor—” Sirius attempted to protest.

 

“For _all_ first year Gryffindors.”

 

“What?” Harriet exclaimed immediately. _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ landed on her table with a thud, splintering her matchstick.

 

“We didn’t do anything!” Mary Macdonald added, pointing a finger at James and Sirius. “It was them!”

 

McGonagall passed her eyes over the Gryffindors, who were all sitting relatively close together. The Hufflepuffs were silent.

 

“Wait behind after class. I shall explain.”

 

Stumped, the first years’ protests died down. There was not long to wait until the bell rang, the time easily filled by Greg Lestrade from Hufflepuff collecting the matchsticks (or needles, in Lily and James’s cases).

 

After the other houses had left, Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. “While Mr Potter did display a remarkable level of magic for his age—” James accepted Sirius’s offered hand in a high five “—his way of showing it was unacceptable. Since, Potter, you strike me as the type of person who would not listen to a reprimand directed only to you, you will all serve detention on Friday evening.”

 

“This is all your fault, Potter,” Harriet muttered darkly, glaring at him.

 

“What about Lupin, Professor?” asked Frank Longbottom.

 

“I see no reason why he shouldn’t serve with you, as long as he is back to health,” said McGonagall, ignoring the groans of protest from the students. “Consider it a kindness that I am not deducting any house points. Report to me after dinner on Friday. You are dismissed.”

 

With a slight sense of gloom hanging over them, the ten Gryffindors shuffled over to the Great Hall for dinner. James and Sirius appeared pleased with themselves, chatting animatedly among themselves. They even attracted the awe of the shy Peter Pettigrew. Lily rolled her eyes, focusing on her stew. Remus Lupin had still not appeared. She wondered vaguely if she should write him a note, or a ‘Get Well Soon’ card. Or a ‘Sorry I got You in Detention’ card, and make James sign it.

 

In the end, she opted to strike up a conversation with him when he returned to the common room.

 

He had clearly been unwell. His skin was pale; his face haggard. He seemed a little surprised when Lily called him over to where she sat, but he came anyway, sitting in the chair that had been occupied by Sirius the previous evening.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, setting aside her quill. “John said you were ill.”

 

Remus nodded. “I had the flu.”

 

Lily opened her mouth to chide him for wandering around without a jacket, but shut it again and opted to cluck her tongue sympathetically. “Well, you can have my notes from today, if you want. We had practicals for Potions and Transfiguration – which reminds me. James Potter got us all in detention on Friday, even you. I’m sorry.”

 

He merely gave a one-shouldered shrug. He seemed too tired to complain, or even hold a proper conversation. Lily’s heart went out to him.

 

She set aside her homework and started a letter to her parents. Remus leaned back against the chair, looking as if he might fall asleep. It came as a surprise to her, then, when he asked softly, “Who are you writing to?”

 

“My parents,” she replied with a smile, once the alarm had dissipated. “They’re muggles. You said your mother is one, didn’t you?”

 

He nodded, smiling. “My father saved her from a boggart.”

 

“A what?” Lily frowned.

 

“Boggart,” Remus repeated. “It takes the shape of whatever your fear the most.”

 

Lily felt an involuntary shudder roll over her shoulders. “That sounds terrible. What do you think yours would be?”

 

“I don’t know,” he replied, but he sounded as if he did.

 

“Mine would probably be something daft,” said Lily, in an attempt to rid the boy across from her from the faraway look in his eyes. “Like a duck.”

 

Remus raised an eyebrow. “You’re afraid of ducks?”

 

“No,” Lily replied, and, realising that her tone of voice had suggested that was obvious, added, “but I’ve never seen one up close, so I could be.”

 

“I quite like ducks,” Remus divulged. “Though they can be persistent if they know you’ve got food.”

 

Suddenly unsure how their conversation had turned to the subject of waterfowl, Lily shook her head. “I should probably go to bed. Goodnight, Remus. I hope you feel better soon.”

 

He smiled faintly. “Thank you, Lily.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there'll be one more chapter of first year before I move on. We'll see how it pans out.


End file.
